Picked Foley up this morning and we made our way to Spira's place for brunch. He wanted to stop somewhere for beer.
"A little early for beer?", I asked.
"It's for the pancakes", he replied. "And it can't be any beer -- it has to be Red Hook".
"I don't know if we'll find a place that's open".
"Just stop at a gas station."
"They don't sell beer at gas stations."
"Of course they do."
"I have a conviction that they don't. Not in Massachusetts. I'm so confident, I'll bet you anything I own."
He believed me, I think. Nearing Spira's we spotted a massive wholesale liquor store that claimed to carry over 500 different brands of beer, which, now that I think of it, is an awful high number. I must have read it wrong. We pulled in the parking lot and Foley asked the three guys milling around the front door with bags of empties if the store was open. "Twelve O'clock", one of them replied. Agreeing the hour wait wasn't worth it, we hit the road.
"Why do you need beer for the pancakes, anyway? Beer pancakes don't sound appealing."
"No, I'd drink the beer with the pancakes."
I never asked him the genesis of the idea. Maybe it's a family tradition.
The brunch went well. Joel, and his wife, who's name I can't recall for some reason, despite the fact that I like her quite a bit, and Spira's new beau, Brad, were in attendance. We ate pancakes without beer, eggs, croissants, and sausages. Lots of laughs; great discussions. Crappy weather notwithstanding, a solid A.
I met up with Foley and his sister, Mary, at the Burren last night. I don't see Mary often, but I always enjoy her company when I do. She razzed Foley about some of his recent courting tactics, which were straight out of Say Anything, and subsequent to that we discussed the fine line between romantic and creepy.
"If a guy behaved with me the way you did with that girl, you'd have gone after him," she said.
"No. No, I wouldn't. I would have admired his style", he responded.
"Please!"
The siblings carried on in this fashion for a few minutes longer. Nothing was resolved.
Mara made me dinner Friday night. We had butternut squash/maple syrup raviolis, chicken sausage, and steamed asparagus. It was yummy. After dinner, I dropped her off at a book swap her friend Jane was hosting, and went home and played music.
I wonder if I'll have work tomorrow. I hear the storm that's approaching looks to be badass. I could do worse than a long weekend, though I hate the fucking snow so god-damn much.
I finished the first season of MadMen today. Very good. I look forward to the next one.
And now, I look forward to other ventures, which have nothing to do with this one and nothing to do with you.
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